The Mutant Games
by HappytimeswithME
Summary: SuperWhoLock Fanfiction. Dean finds out that his long lost brother is alive. He has to save him and little Abbey in the games but he doesn't know how. he meets many people on the way, including some strange ones, including some angels, a Time Lord and quite a lot of demons, all of which he thought didn't exist. he just wished he could save them all.
1. Chapter 1- Smoke

Chapter 1- Smoke

**AN: so I'm still writing 'the missing three' but I just wanted to get this one on the way. I have like two more chapters to write up and I'm really tired. Hope you enjoy! Oh I forgot to say, **

**The Old Memory**

_1pm, Deans old House_

The tree of cracks transpired into an ornament of fractured splints and rimations creating an angelic image onto the bathroom sink. The light cigarette ash still scattered around the basin from when he was "taking a breather" or "getting away from life". The dried blood on the edges of the plug hole from when he either cut himself shaving or when he was cleaning his belt after beating us for not doing as asked.

Father had told me that it was my fault. My fault he beat us. My fault that he had to sell Sammy. After all these years, I'm starting to believe him. To believe that it was my fault, he needed the alcohol. Because we had driven him mad. My fault that he had sold my little brother to District 11 for money to buy alcohol. Just for alcohol, and nothing else. Before Sammy had gone, he had told me that he was still mourning over the loss of our mother, Mary. Since she had died my father had became strict and abusive. After what happened, what he saw, I could hardly blame him.

Around a year after he had taken my brother away from me, he had gotten really, really drunk. His body had swayed and his pulse had risen. He had turned aggressive and self-centred. The alcohol had turned him into a monster.

I reached up and placed my hand on the rugged scar just above my hairline. I can remember that day as if it was only yesterday.

The silent meals in front of the fire. The isolation. Hiding away in the bedroom until it was school or tea. The pain. The screams as he had whipped my bare back. I had tried to stop him that night. I had ran into the bathroom after the second whipping. He had kicked at the door until it fell. He had kicked me into the wall. He had smashed my head into the sink and whipped my while I was still unconscious.

The next thing I can remember was waking up, four months later, in the home of one of the miners. The mother of the family had adopted me. She was one of the friendliest people I would ever meet. She had told me that my father had committed suicide two months before. I had been- no, I had felt; forgiveness for what he had done to me. Like he was sorry. Like he thought he could redeem himself for what he had done.

I touched my cheek. Damp. I had been crying again. Just because of this damn sink. I checked my watch. 2:48. I had been hear almost two hours.

I stood. I wiped my cheek and started collecting my bag when I noticed the window in the kitchen. It was only small. I used to plan my escape staring out of it. The escape that would save me from my father. The floor creaked as I wandered across it. The small kitchen was just as how I remembered. Gloomy. Papers attached to the timber walls. The dark, almost black, rug just flung onto the floor. The hanging cupboard door of the alcohol cupboard. And the window. Reflections of bitter sweet memories embered in the condensed air of the window. Gleaming with tragic thoughts the outer coating seemed to hide. Hiding the sinister struck deep in the centre of the window like a red dot on a blank canvas.

A knock at the door stopped my depressing thought filling my head. Who would be knocking at a dead man's house? A quaint, petite figure stood, blurred out by the cloudiness of our old front doors window. It was Lisa. The only happy thought I have left. Immediately after the third knock, I answered, looking distorted and shamed.

Her bright smile fought with my frown only to make it even worse. How can I have a girl like Lisa? How, when all I have ever done is moan about "daddy problems" and how much my head throbbed.

"Hey!" she said joyful as ever, staring with beedie eyes as I stood silently, as if I was a soldier witnessing a friend's death. All I wanted to do was fall on top of her and cry, but I couldn't, I can't. "Are you okay?" she asked as I grabbed her into a big hug. She's mine; she and abbey are all I have left. A single tear rolled down my cheek as I placed my head in the crook of her neck. "Is this about tomorrow? Dean, you have nothing to worry about. We are more likely to run into an elephant than be picked and it's Abbeys first time and she defiantly won't be picked, it's just too hard for it to happen." She smiled; I lifted my head and kissed her lightly on her forehead. It will be all right.

"I love you." I whispered. I meant it.

"I know." She replied looking into my eyes. Her dark, puppy dog eyes. "Now, stop crying I need my blouse to look nice as I go into the bakery. Mums made friends with the baker there; I think the bakers names Lucy. She said see if Lucy can sew up the dresses for tomorrow. Plus, I have to pick Abbey up from school!" she kissed me lightly on the lips and started to walk down the road. "Oh and Dean, please don't make me feel bad about that stupid prank" I looked at her confused, "don't give me that look, I know you really aren't depressed!" she smiled and headed to the school at the end of the road.

I can still smell her chocolaty hair from all the times she's had to work in the bakery. She had to know I weren't joking. Didn't she?

**Reaping day **

_12pm, Lisa's mother's house_

The air was chill upon my bare neck as I stared at the familiar sink in my girlfriend's bathroom. My eyes slowly shifted to the small, circular mirror hanging upon the tiled wall.

I was wearing my father's old clothes, Natalie, Lisa's mom, thinks I look like him. His blue blouse tightened when I breathed in, its cuffs were burned with cigarette ash and splashes of red wine. The trousers, cheep polyester, were stained with dust from the mines, alcohol and food.

I tried to hide the scruffy shirt with his old hunting jacket. When he was sober enough he would take me hunting with his friend Bobby, a family friend who was more a father to me than John ever was. He had looked after me when my father couldn't be bothered or was too drunk to even try.

"Dean Hun, it's time to go," Natalie called, "Abbeys already set off and, for the first time ever, Lisa's dressed before you!" I grabbed my shoes, fixed my hair and walked out of the bathroom.

_1:52, outside Justice Building_

I had held Lisa's smooth, gentle hand, all the way to the Justice building.

My name will be in that bowl thirty times, _how fun! _I am adding my name in an extra three times for the girl's food and oil so they have a better chance of not getting picked. So they don't have to.

I look over to Lisa, she looked, worried. She met my eyes; no she didn't look worried, she looked terrified.

I looked through her crowd. There were only about seven blonde 12 year old girls there, but they all had their hair either tied back or too short. Where was Abbey?

I looked back to Lisa, and mouthed 'abbey'. She slowly nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek.

She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again, her mouth swallowing many tears.

I looked around. There was nothing on the ground. I looked up into the sky. There was a slight waver of dark powdery stuff in the sky hovering over one of the houses. There was only one thing that could mean. I gulped; there was only one thing that came to mind. No one should be using their fires; everyone should be at the reaping. That only meant one thing. There was a fire, and abbey was probably in it.


	2. Chapter 2-Blue

Chapter 2-Blue

1.59, outside Justice Building

It may not be anything to do with Abbey, I thought, you just may not be able to see her from where you are, yes that's it, I can't see her. Maybe Lisa cant-

"Hello and welcome to this years Hunger Games!" the loud voice of our Mayor could be heard for miles as it echoed throughout the district. He started going on about the games and the history of Panem. Why do we even play these stupid games? We are just going to die anyway so why do we try. Twenty three deaths per year, for what? The make up a stupid lie, make themselves sound like angels, for what? For the Capitol. That's what.

I take a deep breath and look at my beautiful partner. She's so pale, her chocolaty eyes glassy and red. I try to reassure her with a shy smile and a slight nod. She smiles through the drying tears.

"As always, ladies first." my attention moves instantly to a tall, slender woman in a Celeste wig and a matching feathered dress. Cher Elestren. Her narrow form standing between the two reaping bowls.

As two of her slender fingers dove into the bowl filled with the names of my female acquiescences from the district, the whole district seemed silenced. As if someone pressed the mute button on my district for those few seconds.

She smiled, her eyes lighting up like she had been given something expensive. This was all a game to her. She didn't care who got hurt on the way there.

"Lisa Braeden." my heart stopped. I cant breath. My body moves without control. I look at Lisa. Her body has froze. She looks as if she has seen a ghost. I want to march over there and tell her to run. Run from this madness. I want to protect her. I need to protect her. It is silent. Everyone moved to make her space to get to the stage.

A scream awoken me from this nightmare. I turn my neck to the isle separating guys from girls. Abbey. Her yellow dress now black, her pale face red and raw, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had been in the fire.

"Stop!" she screamed. "I volunteer!" my eyes dart to Cher, she has frozen, her thin smile replaced with a distressed glance around the crowds. I held in a gasp as Abbey walked up onto the stage. Silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Well, erm," the older woman pondered, "what's your name... Dear?" The woman asked, trying to stop her voice cracking.

"A-Abbey," she replied, tears dripping off her face like rain on a rooftop.

"Is-is that your sister, down there?"

"Yes." the tears where streaming down her face now.

"Well. Aren't you one of the bravest little girls I have ever met." Abbey looked up at the woman. The woman looked down at her, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

She straightened her posture and walked, shaking slightly, over to the other bowl. Trying to steadily place her fingers into the bowl, she took the top piece of powder blue paper and took it back to the mic.

with a deep breath she said; "Garth-"

"I volunteer!" I yelled. Without even thinking I took of to the stage and stood on the other side of the older woman. She isn't as tall up here as she is in the crowd.

"What an amazing sight!" she exclaimed, her voice steadier now, "two of the very fist volunteers in District 12! And what's your name boy?"

"Dean Winchester." I replied in a flinty voice, the same one my father had told me to use when answering questions to people with higher authority.

"Well Dean, why did you volunteer for-"

"It wasn't for him." I interrupted. "I did it for Lisa, I want her to have her sister, she deserves to have her sister to come home, she doesn't need me. Too let her come home in one piece, so she can come home and look after her family. Nothing else." I spat.

I looked into her deep blue eyes. She looked, taken aback by my interruption and words. "Well," she said, trying to sound cheerful, "here's to our new tributes; Abbey Braeton and Dean Winchester!" as she said this, she began to clap. There was no cheering in the audience. No clapping. Just, silence.

The lady leaned close to my ear, invading my personal space. "When we go inside these doors, you will have ten minuets to say your goodbyes. Then I will come and collect you and we will walk to the train station, understood?" I nod unconsciously. What have I done.

2:38, Inside Justice Building

The air was warmer in here. It's not as bright as outside in here, but, not as dim as inside Lisa's house. The Red carpet standing out in the white furnished room. I sat on the birch chair facing the fireplace, back to the door, a glass of liquor in hand.

There was a patter of light footsteps in the hall. A cry as someone ran out of Abbeys room. The door opened with a rush of cool air and Lisa ran in and draped her shaking arms around my neck.

I looked into her eyes, her big, chocolaty eyes. "Why?" she whispered. "why did you do that?" I shook my head, "I couldn't allow Abbey to go in there with a stranger could I?". "I'll lose you" she stuttered. "I know" a soft smile appeared on my lips "I'm sorry, but I did this for you, for Abbey. To protect you."


	3. Chapter 3- Nightmare

**AN: I know this is a short chapter but I really liked this one, hope you too. Don't forget to review! Enjoy!**

_4:23pm- Dean's room, Train to the Capitol_

The feeling was almost instant. I leaned onto the pearl shower wall. What have I done? I take a deep breath trying to control myself in the steam. For Lisa. This is for Lisa.

The water was hot, like a shower of cooling ash was falling on my head, but- soothing my aches and pains, not creating blisters. In the district we had a large bucket, we had freezing water and one bar of soap to clean ourselves.

When I finally get out, I walk back into the white bedroom. It has a white king-sized bed, a white closet and a white desk with some books on. My old clothes are gone, replaced with a slate grey shirt and dark jeans folded up on the bed. My jacket was slung over the chair by my bed, folded neatly. I got changed, put my jacket on and strode into the dining cart.

The room was a pearl sort of colour with glass tabled and chairs in the middle. Cher and Abbey where seated next to each other and a stranger was sitting at the end. She looked round as I entered and stood.

"Dean Winchester," she said, standing up. She had a black leather body suit on and her dark hair tied back. Her skin was dark but her features fit her tone, "I'm your new mentor, Martha, Martha Jones."

"Hey Martha, do you know where I can get a bear? I really-"

"Yes, but first, what can you do?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean; what can you do? Are you good with a knife, a bow maybe? What can you do?"

"He's a great kisser," interrupted Abbey. I grin.

"Yeah, I'm good at that. But yeah, I've got good reflexes, if that helps." I half smiled, trying to look convincing.

"We can use the great reflexes, here catch these," one by one she threw pieces of silver cutlery at me, i threw them at the wall, piercing through the train wall. This reminded me of all the times in the forest with Bobby.

"What are you doing?" screamed Cher, horrified, she walked up to the wall and pulled out twelve knives, "Why did you do this?"

"Don't worry, Cher, I'm just training him." Martha started to grinning mischievously, "Now Dean, throw some at Cher and see if her wig comes off."

_1:29am- Dean's Room, Train to the Capitol_

_Run. Run. That's what I have to do, to carry on running. My brother in my arms as the firer circled us. _

_"Dean!" my father yelled, inside the red flame. "Take your brother outside! Now! Go Dean!"_

_Run. Run. Run! Sammy in arms, I ran out of the house. I trip and fall, dropping Sammy. I scream. And close my eyes._

_I'm in another house. My house. Sammy sleeping next to me. My Sammy is about 9 now._

_I hear footsteps coming into my fathers room. I hear yelling. _

_"Dean?" his small voice whispered, "I'm going to see why John's yelling, okay?" he never called him 'Dad' just his real name, John._

_"No Sammy, go back to sleep." He ignored me, I can hear his little feet pattering against the floor boards. i can see the light as he opens the door and goes into the living room. I can hear the screams as Sammy is being taken away. I can smell the smoke as John stood on his cigarette. I can hear the front door closing as John leaves to get alcohol from the Hub. I can feel the warm tears against my cheeks as I realise what I've done. I didn't help Sammy. I didn't-_

"Dean?" a small voice whispered. For a second I thought it was Sam. A sliver of light travelled to my face as I opened my eyes to see a young girl with streaming tears over her cheeks, walking over to me.

"Hey Abs, what's up?" I yawned. Making room on the bed for her.

"I should say the same as you. Did you have a nightmare as well?" I nodded slowly, feeling my face. Tears and sweat coated it.

"Yeah, you wanna sleep in my bed?" now it was her tern to nod. I lifted the cover up as she slid in. "I'll protect you then, yeah?" I smiled.

Abbey fell asleep in my arms.

_3:41- Entering The Capitol, Three Days Later,_

I stood with Abbey outside the locked door. After three days of sleeping with Abs, training with Martha and crappy fashion advice from Cher, it's finally time to get of this damn train.

As it slows its stop I feel a need to get out. The doors slide open and I jump out, Abbey following me with a little hop.

"Dean, follow me." Cher said, walking in front of me, trying to keep up with my long strides.

"Where are we going, Cher?"

She smiled. "You'll see."


End file.
